


I'll tell you where the real road lies; between your ears, behind your eyes

by HistoriaGloria



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Georgie and Jon are trying I promise, I guess a fix-it?, Insecurities, M/M, Post 160 but No Apocalypse, Scars, This was meant to be short and silly BUT HERE WE ARE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoriaGloria/pseuds/HistoriaGloria
Summary: 'Jon isn't sure why he let Georgie talk him into this.“Come on, Jon,” she had said. “It'll be fun. It'll be normal. You need some normality after everything.” He thinks it's that that convinced him, the idea of normality.'Georgie convinces Jon, and by extension Martin, to come to an alumni dinner at their old university. Jon struggles to deal with normal people who do not know what the Dread Powers are and by extension, ask awkward questions about his many scars.
Relationships: Background Melanie King/Georgie Barker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 34
Kudos: 532





	I'll tell you where the real road lies; between your ears, behind your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A THROW AWAY JOKE WHAT THE FUCK BRAIN  
> I was like 'aha what if Jon went to an alumni dinner and couldn't do people' and now I have over 5k of sadness.   
> But, I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Chapter title is from Wait for Me (Reprise) from Hadestown, because I love those Orpheus and Eurydice parallels:  
> 'I'll tell you where the real road lies  
> Between your ears, behind your eyes.  
> That is the path to paradise,  
> Likewise the road to ruin.'

Jon isn't sure why he let Georgie talk him into this.

“Come on, Jon,” she had said. “It'll be fun. It'll be _normal._ You need some normality after everything.” He thinks it's that that convinced him, the idea of normality.

It's only been about 3 months since Martin and he had managed to circumvent The Watcher's Crown, since they had returned to London and put an end to Jonah Magnus. Legally, Martin is now Head of the Institute, with both Peter and Jonah dead, but honestly, it's basically closed. Jon knows that they'll have to go back soon; he's starting to get antsy. Clearly, he's still The Archivist, still tied to The Eye. But the death of Jonah has given him some leeway.

And then, Georgie called him. Their relationship had been fraught since The Unknowing and the 6 months he spent basically dead. Then, after everything that had happened with Melanie... she always blamed him for what happened to her.

Rightly, Jon supposes. If it hadn't been for him, she would never have gotten involved with the Institute and Beholding. But after Martin had insisted on telling Melanie in person that Jonah Magnus was dead, Jon and Georgie had started to repair their relationship. Still, the call had been a surprise.

But it is what sees him standing in the cold outside Balliol College. He is wearing a suit, a little ill fitting (honestly most of his clothes had been stolen off other people for the last few years considering, well, everything.) His hands are stuffed into his pockets and his hair is worn down around his face.

An Alumni Dinner. Ex-students and his old professors will be there alike. Georgie had asked him to come because Melanie was only just getting back on her feet, getting used to leaving the house and re-integrating into society. Georgie didn't want the pressure of some of the bullshit she had put up with at this university. Jon had agreed, on the condition he could bring Martin. Not that he would admit it, but he is having trouble controlling his more... monstrous side. For so long, he hasn't had to deal with truly normal people, and he doesn't know if he'll screw up.

Martin knows how to help. Martin is good and kind and Jon adores him.

“Hey, Jon.”

Speak, well, _think_ of the devil. Jon turns away from staring at the closed door to the college and up into Martin's face.

“Hello,” he replies softly and lets Martin extract his hand from his pocket to hold it. “Georgie said she'll be here in five.”

“Okay. You doing alright?”

“Don't let me Behold someone or anything,” is all Jon says in reply and Martin squeezes his hand.

“We can leave whenever you need to, I promise. I've got an old statement from the pile we salvaged if you get really testy.” Jon nods and presses closer to Martin.

He looks lovely tonight, dressed in a blue suit which gives him a warm pop of colour.

Whilst he had been so close to The Lonely, Martin had worn monochrome, the colour leaching from his dress sense and then Martin himself. His ginger hair is now shock white, stark even against his pale skin. It had taken him a little while to get used to and Martin had considered dyeing it ginger again, but Jon likes it. Though, as Martin has joked many times, it makes him look like an edgy protagonist of some fantasy series. During this respite period, Jon has been encouraging Martin into wearing colour again and he's very glad that he has been doing so.

“You look very handsome tonight,” Jon murmurs and Martin smiles.

“Thank you, dear. So do you.” He turns, straightening Jon's tie gently. “You seem nervous.”

“I have changed somewhat since I was at university, Martin,” says Jon, dry as the Sahara. “I'm... not who I was.”

“You're still Jonathan Sims,” Martin replies firmly. He has been very determined to remind Jon that he is still a person, no matter how much of his humanity he loses. Jon stretches up on his tiptoes to kiss Martin on the cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too. It's going to be okay, Jon. It really is.”

“As long as you're here.” Martin's face softens and he gently presses a kiss to Jon's forehead.

“Honestly, look at you love birds,” comes another voice and Jon tears his eyes away from Martin to look at Georgie as she hurries over. She looks nice this evening, in a knee-length black dress covered in small stars and moons.

“Hello, Georgie. You look lovely tonight,” says Martin warmly. Jon nods, but doesn’t say anything. Georgie looks them both over and sighs a little.

“You’ll both do. Jon, stop looking so nervous. It’s an alumni dinner for god’s sake, not the end of the world.”

“I know, I’ve seen both,” Jon replies icily and both he and Georgie wince. This is how their relationship has been for so long. Georgie makes a comment about Jon’s general oddities; Jon replies with a spiteful comment and then both of them ignore each other. Martin sighs.

“Both of you, can we not? Please?”

“Sorry,” Jon mutters, holding Martin’s hand tightly.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make light of stuff like that. It was cruel of me. Thank you for coming to this with me,” Georgie replies, looking more sheepish than Jon expected. He just nods in reply to that and she gives him a slight smile.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Martin suggests and there is a small smile playing on his face, like he can’t believe either of them. And with that, the three of them enter the small door into Balliol college.

* * *

Jon’s first thought is that it hasn’t changed. Despite everything that has changed with him, the halls and quads of Balliol college are exactly the same as they were when he was a student here. He knows just where to go, knows his way to the hall without even thinking about it and he can see from Georgie’s stance that she feels the same. It’s very unnerving. He can feel Martin’s hand, warm and solid in his own and he breathes. Martin is here and as long as he is, Jon is okay. There is a small room to the side of the dining room, which they are waved into with a smile. This room is busy, with people milling around holding glasses of wine. He is handed a glass as he enters which he takes, a little automatically, almost completely sure that it is now biologically impossible for him to get drunk. Georgie, bright and wonderful as she is, spots some old friends almost immediately and falls into an excited reunion.

“Okay?” Martin asks quietly in his ear and Jon nods, pressing closer to him.

“Yes. I’m… I’m fine, Martin.”

“Jonathan? Jonathan Sims?” asks a vaguely familiar voice and Jon turns to look up at a tall man in a very nice suit. _Ralph_ the Beholding provides helpfully and then Jon focuses, trying to ignore the deluge of useless information that it then gives him. He holds on to the information that Ralph had been a biology student.

“Ralph, hi. It is good to see you again.” Ralph shoves his hand out for a handshake which Jon reluctantly reciprocates. He can’t feel very much in his right hand anyway, after his fateful handshake with Jude Perry. But he definitely doesn’t miss the surprise and mild disgust that crosses Ralph’s face when he feels the twisting scar tissue that makes up most of Jon’s right palm. “How are you doing?” Jon asks, to draw the attention away.

“Very well. Yourself?”

“Good, yes,” Jon says mechanically, knowing what he looks like. He looks nothing like he used to, like he has had a very hard life, which is not untrue. “What are you, um, would you like to tell me about what you have been doing?” Jon winces, desperately trying to phrase the question. God, he has been trying so hard not to compel people. Ralph looks a little confused and slightly uncomfortable, but he shrugs.

“Oh, I got a lab tech job in an engineering lab and I’ve been making my way up. It’s been good. Not super well paid, but I’m doing what I love. What about you?

“I’m-” Jon has to bite down on his tongue, _hard_ , so he doesn’t just respond with ‘The Archive’ when Martin saves him.

“We work for the Magnus Institute in London. Sorry, I’m Martin, Jon’s partner. Ralph, wasn’t it?” he says, light and conversational. Ralph relaxes and Jon resists the urge to burrow into Martin’s shirt in the hope that he will stop existing.

“Yes. It is nice to meet you, Martin. Did you say you work for the Magnus Institute? Didn’t it have that terror attack happen a few months ago?” Jon winces, remembering the way the press dealt with the Institute on multiple occasions, the attacks from the Hunters and the Not-Them as well as the difficult and violent ascent to kill Jonah Magnus more recently.

“Yeah, terrible really. Jon and I were locked down in the Archives where we work when that happened,” Martin lies smoothly and, not for the first time, Jon is astounded that The Web never tried to claim Martin. He is very good at spinning the truth just out of proportion. “But it was terrifying. Nothing like mortal fear to make you realise what’s actually important.” He tails off slightly at the end and looks at Jon. He remembers vividly their conversation in the Lonely, Martin’s promise to follow Jon wherever he went after he had returned home just in time to prevent Jonah from using Jon to start The Watcher’s Crown.

“You always were a morbid romantic,” Jon teases lightly, finally managing to unclench his jaw.

“Is that where you got your, um, scars? Working as an archivist?” asks Ralph. Never the most tactful person and Jon panics. How does he reply to that? Because, technically, yes.

“I have had a few accidents,” Jon tries to explain and immediately flounders. Not only are his scars numerous, but they’re also immensely weird. The circular scars from Jane Prentiss carve up the left side of his face, pock-marked holes which are definitely difficult to explain. Not to mention the wrapping burn scar from Jude Perry. Nor the fact that if you look close enough, his eyes are shot with black veins from The Dark Star and surrounded by tiny scars from where he tried to claw them out trying to stop Jonah Magnus speaking through him (it’s mainly why he still wears his now-void glasses). In comparison, the two deep slashes on his throat from the Hunt, Daisy and Julia Montauk respectively, are fairly normal.

“Always getting into trouble,” Martin says, saving him again. “But enough about us, Ralph. What about you? This lab tech job, tell me about it?” Jon lets himself zone out of the conversation for a moment, trying to refocus. God, he has only spoken to one person who he vaguely knew, and he has managed to literally be asked about all the things he cannot explain. He lets his eyes wander the room, recognising a few of his old professors and Georgie talking to a guy he recognises from the band they were in. Georgie looks up and meets his eyes, waving him over. The guy, Mark, he lights up as Jon walks over slowly.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Jon Sims!” he laughs and Jon manages a smile.

“Hello, Mark. It is good to see you again.” He lets the other man pull him into a one-armed hug. “You’re looking well.”

“You’re not,” Mark says and Jon snorts. He forgot how blunt Mark had always been.

“Oh, it’s been… it’s a been a long few years. You wouldn’t believe half of my stories.”

“He certainly wouldn’t,” Georgie chimes in. “He thinks _mine_ are bullshit.”

“Honestly, Georgie, you run a podcast about ghosts now! How am I supposed to believe that?” Mark laughs and Jon thinks about saying something dumb. Something like, well, I’m literally a monster tied to an entity of fear and have basically been on the run from other things like me for the last few years. But he doesn’t. Georgie and he share an eye roll and a small knowing smile.

“Life is treating you okay, though, Mark?” Jon asks, without ever really asking a question.

“Oh, yeah! Still bash around the music scene when I can but I’m a teacher now. Private music tutoring.”

“Sounds well-paid,” Jon teases dryly and gets a nudge for his troubles.

“Yeah, well, what about you?”

“Oh, I work for the Magnus Institute,” he manages to say through gritted teeth, forcing down the words which The Eye wants to put into his mouth. “Head Archivist.”

“Magnus Institute? Never heard of it,” Mark says lazily, and Jon’s body loosens a little. “You happy there?” There is an edge to his old friend’s voice, a protectiveness which Jon had missed.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jon lies, poorly. Mark’s eyes narrow.

“You should get out, Jon. I can see you hate it.”

“It’s complicated,” Jon mutters, glancing back at Martin who has managed to extract himself from Ralph to head over. “Besides, I have someone I love to do this with me.” Mark follows his glance and whistles quietly under his breath.

“The 6’4ft gentle giant who looks like he’d make the best tea and also snap every bone in my body is yours, man? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Martin,” Jon says quietly as the man in question steps up beside him. “This is Martin.”

“Hi,” Martin says pleasantly. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you, man. Glad to see that you and Georgie are back on speaking terms after everything though, Jon,” Mark replies, looking between Martin and Jon quickly.

“Well,” Georgie and Jon both start at the same time.

“It can be, a bit… fraught?” Georgie suggests and Jon nods, his cheeks flushing more than he’d care to admit. “But we’re both trying.” They’ve lost too much not to goes unsaid. Mark nods.

“You’re doing better than I expected given the amount of door slamming and broken things that I had to deal with when you broke up.”

“It’s been a long time since then,” Jon mutters. “A lot of things give you… perspective.”

“Besides, my girlfriend used to work with Jon and Martin, so I saw him a lot,” Georgie shrugs. “She quit a couple of months ago.” Jon rubs the back of his hand, thinking about Melanie. They get on quite well now really, after everything. She has somewhat forgiven him for the removal of The Slaughter which was locked in her leg, and whilst she still blames him a little for getting her involved, the hatred, now she is out of the sight of the Eye, has lessened significantly.

“You found yourself a girl too? Good on ya, Georgie,” Mark says easily and Jon feels just a little bit safer. Mark doesn’t seem to want to comment on Jon’s awful scars and hasn’t pressed about his job. He isn’t sure why he’s surprised; Mark was always a chill guy. It’s why they got on so well. Before they can continue to talk, people are being ushered into the hall and Jon clings to Martin’s hand. Excellent. Now, time for the hard bit; dealing with his old professors.

* * *

Jon refuses to let go of Martin’s hand as they are seated along the long tables in the hall, Georgie sat a couple of seats down from them. Jon is sure he recognises a couple of the professors, but several are new. He ends up sat next to a spritely young woman who introduces herself almost immediately.

“Hi. I’m Doctor Angela Morrison.”

“Jonathan Sims,” Jon replies quietly and yet again lets her shake his hand. “You’re um, you’re new?”

“Yeah, I moved from St John’s College last year. You were a student?” Jon nods, giving a weak smile.

“Yes. A long time ago. A very different time. But I studied English Literature here.”

“Ah, a noble pursuit. What are you doing now, Jonathan?”

“Jon’s just fine,” Jonathan makes him squirm. No one calls him Jonathan, not since his grandma died. Not even people like Nikola or Mike Crew had called him that. Mainly because the other avatars only refer to him as The Archivist. “I work at the Magnus Institute with my partner, Martin, here.” Martin smiles, offering Angela a reassuring smile. Jon is so glad that Martin is normal looking, in spite of everything he has been through.

“Jonathan Sims?” asks another voice and Jon turns, surprised to see his old tutor, Gareth come and sit opposite.

“Gareth, hello. It is good to see you.” Jon can’t hide the smile, but Gareth looks… concerned and he feels Martin’s hand tense around his own.

“And you… Are you doing okay?” Jon’s smile turns dry and he rubs his knuckles sheepishly over the pock-marked scars down his neck and cheek.

“Yes, Gareth. I know I’ve changed a lot since you last saw me but I’m doing okay.” It’s not completely a lie. He’s doing so much better now, with Martin and after they had dealt with Jonah Magnus, he’s a little freer. Sure, he’s absolutely positive that there’s many an entity which wants him dead, but he’s doing better. Gareth nods and his eyes linger on Jon’s neck and cheeks, before shifting back down.

“So, ah, The Magnus Institute?” says Angela, trying to break a little of the tension. “I’ve only heard about it in vague passing, what do you do there?”

“Oh, Jon’s the Head Archivist and I’m one of the archival assistants,” Martin lies easily, and Jon can hear the way he says _head archivist_ like you would say _prisoner_. “We’ve worked there for, wow, I’m not sure how many years. 5 or 6?” Martin gives a laugh, trying to make light of it, but there is a distance in his eyes, a slight grey tinge to his skin. Jon clutches at his hand under the table and Martin’s eyes refocus. He Knows that this is difficult for Martin. Large groups of people have been difficult since he left the Lonely. They unnerve and scare him, and Jon _hates_ it. Sometimes, he really wishes he had killed Peter Lukas slower.

Turns out, this is difficult for both of them. Jon flashes a panicked look over at Georgie, but she is laughing with an old friend. He feels guilty for wanting to leave so quickly, considering much fun Georgie is having.

“Head Archivist?” Angela says excitedly. “That sounds like a pretty important job.”

“Oh, it’s so much worse than I expected,” Jon says absently. “It would be fine literally anywhere else.” He catches himself just before he says that it has almost got him killed several times.

“What is that makes it so hard?” Gareth asks and his voice is guarded. He has given a statement to the Archive, ran into the Hunt when he was a much younger man and managed to escape with only a few scars across his back, which is fairly impressive. He had always thought that The Institute felt creepy and like it knew far too much. He had dealt with a young man with shoulder-length blonde hair and a gentle smile and…

Ah. Jon realises what he is doing as soon as the image of Michael Shelley before he became The Distortion appears in his mind.

He didn’t mean to Know any of that, especially not about poor Michael Shelley. He winces, trying to shut the Beholding out and Martin responds, clearly recognising the struggle to shut off Knowing.

“Oh, our predecessor left the Archives in a bit of a mess and so we had to work very hard to create any kind of order. And then, we’ve had a few changes in staffing. So, there hasn’t always been a consistent team.”

“I’ve been once,” Gareth says, and Jon finds himself nodding, taking a long drink of wine so that he doesn’t speak. “It was a while ago. Does, uh, a young man called Michael still work there?”

Martin flinches.

“No,” Jon manages to say carefully. “Michael is no longer with us.” He doesn’t want to lie to his old tutor, but also, how do you explain what happened to poor doomed Michael Shelley? He isn’t even The Distortion anymore.

“Oh, a shame,” Gareth says, looking down. “Did you ever meet him?”

“Yes,” Martin says quietly and Jon rubs his thumb over his hand reassuringly. “Only once, it was… brief.”

“I met him a few times,” Jon says, shortly. And it might just be phantom pain, but the twisting, spiralling scar in the juncture of his shoulder throbs. “We never quite saw eye to eye.” His mind informs him of how ironic that statement is, and Jon fervently ignores it.

“He seemed like such a lovely young man,” Gareth says. “I didn’t like the Institute. I went to go make one of their statements and well, the building is so creepy.”

“Not sure you ever quite get used to that,” Martin mutters as they are brought their starters. Jon looks down at the food and feels a little sick. Human food doesn’t really do much to sustain him these days, other than taste good. “But enough about us, Gareth, you were Jon’s tutor? What was he like as a student?” Martin almost sounds playful. Jon appreciates the attention being moved away from sensitive topics, even if it is to his regretful university days.

“Oh, he was a good one,” Gareth says, relaxing a little. “Hard-working, intelligent. Always a little, over the top, I suppose.” Jon inclines his head, eating a little of the starter as the others begin to dig in.

“That’s a kind assessment. I was a bit of a dick. Honestly, I was a bit of a dick until much more recently.”

“What changed?” Angela asks almost playfully but her eyes are on the scars on Jon’s hands.

“I had an accident which left me with most of these scars,” he lies carefully. Jon knows he’s a terrible liar, but the truth is definitely implausible enough. “And I was hospitalised for a very long time. When I left the hospital, I made an active decision to be nicer.”

“You were somewhat precocious,” Gareth concedes. “But you were never cruel or mean. And you are happy?”

“I have Martin. I’m happy,” Jon says gently, and Martin beams in his peripheral vision. Honestly, Jon is sure the Beholding has improved that because he can see so much better without focusing.

“He’s good to me,” Martin says, chuckling gently. And for a while, the conversation ebbs and flows. They talk briefly about politics (Jon and Martin have really not kept up to date enough), about literature (Martin and Gareth get overexcited about Keats and Jon promises himself he doesn’t adore it) and about the university (Angela is liking her first year class a lot). It could almost be a normal alumni dinner.

When the main course is finished, with Jon barely eating any of it, he excuses himself to the bathroom for a moment. The room is so _loud_ , both physically and in terms of the Beholding. All these people have so many thoughts.

The bathroom is quieter and Jon rubs at his eyes. In the lower lights of the bathroom, they gleam unnaturally. and he sighs.

They’ll have to go back to the Institute soon. He’s getting hungry.

“Jon?” Gareth sticks his head around the door and Jon jumps, immediately trying to categorise a threat. “Sorry, sorry. Just, ah, can I have a word?”

“Sure, Gareth. What is it?”

“I want… I want to warm you about the Magnus Institute. It isn’t what it seems,” Gareth says and there is so much honesty in his voice… Oh. Jon may have slightly compelled him to speak. “It is dark and dangerous and I’m sure people have died in there. I did some digging after I gave my statement and people who work there go missing. People like Michael. It was a little while ago now, but I’m convinced its not a safe place to work. I mean look at you. Did this job do this to you?” Jon sags a little and runs a hand through his grey streaked hair.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I know what the Institute is, Gareth and no, it’s not safe at all. But it’s complicated… I’m tied to it now. I think trying to leave at this point might actually just kill me. And yes, Michael is long gone. I’m sorry. About what happened to you.”

“How did you know…” Gareth says, and Jon quickly backtracks, cursing the Beholding mentally.

“I have read a lot of statements and if you gave one, something happened, Gareth. Something terrible.”

“Yes,” Gareth says quietly. Jon has to bite almost through his tongue to stop himself from Asking.

God, he’s hungry. He might have to talk to Martin about leaving soon. Hungry and overwhelmed and exhausted is never a good idea, especially not for a creature like himself.

“Thank you for the warning, Gareth, but I’m aware. I really am.” His old tutor nods and sighs.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t hurt you anymore.” Jon just smiles wryly at that, moving out of the bathroom before he can Ask anything else. He heads back down the long table, pausing to talk to Georgie.

“We, ah, Martin and I might have to leave soon,” he murmurs, and she turns, looking angry and afraid.

“What did you do?” she mutters accusingly.

“Nothing!” Jon hisses right back. “And I want to keep it that way. But also, this is a lot for Martin too. He hasn’t been free of The Lonely for that long and lots of people he doesn’t know can make him feel very isolated. You don’t have to come too; I am just warning you.”

“Thanks, Jon. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“No, you’re right to. Gotta keep an eye on your local monster,” his voice is low now, hoping that no one else is listening.

“I’ll come too. I don’t want to leave Melanie alone for too long. Can you survive desert?” Jon manages a quick nod and a slight smile.

“Yes, alright.” Georgie flashes him a grin and turns back to the table as Jon heads back to sit with Martin.

Martin is pale. His eyes are washed out and his skin is nearly translucent. Grabbing his hand immediately, Jon presses right up to him, whispering,

“Martin, stay here. Stay with me. We can go very soon. In fact, we have to go very soon.”

“Yes… Sorry, Jon. I am here,” he replies and there is no liminal echo of The Lonely, so he hasn’t slipped too far yet. He leans back against Jon, which releases some of the tension from the smaller man. “We have to go? Are you okay?” he murmurs, voice secretive.

“I’m… getting hungry,” he replies weakly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, love. We’ll sort it out,” Martin says firmly, squeezing Jon’s hand. They are quiet for a moment as the conversations swell and flow around them. There isn’t much for them to say and Jon’s head is swimming with the amount of information the Beholding continues to try and force in there. There are so many people with so much information and it just makes his head aches, even attempting to keep up with them. Desert is an awkward affair and as soon as their plates are cleaned, Jon stands.

“I’m afraid Martin and I must get back, we have to drive back to London tonight,” he says easily. Gareth looks up at him, frowning. “But it was good to see you again, Gareth.”

“And you, Jon. Take care of yourself, okay?” Jon’s mouth twists into a wry smile and Martin interjects.

“He never does. But I will. It was lovely to meet both of you.” Martin stands, wrapping his arm around Jon’s shoulders. Honestly, Jon doesn’t think he will ever get used to the feeling of being completely surrounded by his partner. He _loves_ it.

“And you,” Gareth says, smiling a little. “I hope you think about my advice.” Jon sighs a little and shrugs. He doesn’t reply but he knows it’s far too late for him to leave the Institute. Doing so now would most likely kill him.

Angela smiles and waves as the two of them leave, catching Georgie’s eye as they go. She nods and begins to make her own goodbyes as Jon and Martin move out to wait for her in front of the college.

“God, I need a cigarette,” Jon mutters, rubbing at his temples viciously to try and reduce the headache from the Beholding. Martin catches his wrists, moving his hands away to kiss his temple gently.

“Relax, Jon,” he murmurs and Jon sags against him immediately.

“My ex-tutor met Michael Shelley.”

“Yes, that threw me a little bit. How do you explain, well, ‘oh, the last archivist fed him to an eldritch being so he sort of became an avatar for the fear of Madness until he was taken over by a real estate agent and he tried to kill both of us once or twice.’” Jon laughs, burying his face into Martin’s chest.

“Yeah that was… difficult. Admittedly, every time someone asked about my scars…” he tails off with a shudder and Martin rubs his back.

“It’s okay, Jon. You’re okay. We got through it. And it wasn’t too bad, you didn’t Behold anyone.”

“We’re going to have to go back to the Institute soon, Martin,” Jon replies sadly. “I’m getting… it’s getting harder to stop Asking. And I really don’t want to hurt anyone.” Martin smooths his hand down Jon’s back gently and sighs a little.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go back soon.” The door to the college opens and Georgie steps out. “Thank you for coming with when we need to leave.” Georgie shrugs.

“I don’t want to leave Melanie for too long. And, well, I guess I get it. It must have been a lot for you.”

“People are just so _normal_ ,” Jon groans as he extracts himself from Martin’s hold. “They’re so normal Georgie and when they ask about my scars what am I meant to say? I’m a punching bag for the avatars of the Dread Powers because my boss thought it would be funny to try to use me to start the apocalypse?” Georgie snorts a little.

“Normality was the point, Jon. But I see your point. You didn’t, do anything did you?”

“No,” he huffs. “No. I’ve been very careful not to.”

“Come on, you two,” Martin says quietly. “Let’s head home. It’s been a very long day.” Georgie nods and they start to walk through the streets of Oxford.

“Thank you for coming, though,” Georgie says after a moment. “I had a good evening.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for trying to put some normality into my distinctively not normal life,” Jon replies, fingers laced around Martin’s.

“Well, normal can be rather boring,” she muses and Martin chuckles next to Jon.

“Not sure our brand of ‘not normal’ is ever preferable,” he says. Georgie acquiesces with a nod and a sigh.

“Fair.”

The three of them are quiet as they head home and Jon realises something.

The alumni dinner may have been a mess, but it meant he got to spend time with Martin and repair his relationship with Georgie somewhat. And that might have been worth the time he spent awkward and uncomfortable. He appreciates those who travel this secret little world with him.

His anchors.

And he is willing to pretty much anything for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and both me on Tumblr and Twitter, under HistoriaGloria!


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